


You Cut Me, I Bleed Gold

by thismachinekillsstraightmen



Category: Dream SMP- fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Gen, Hybrid Alexis | Quackity, Hybrid Badboyhalo (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrid Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Implied/Referenced Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Violence, Science Experiments, Shooting, They/Them Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), tags will be updated with each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29815806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thismachinekillsstraightmen/pseuds/thismachinekillsstraightmen
Summary: Their lives changed by the demons of their past, a series of humans and hybrids team up for a better future.Inspired by “i hate hoping” by eatenpickelsticks.Fic title from 'Around' by NIKI.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Eret, Alexis | Quackity & Phil Watson, Alexis | Quackity & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Eret & Original Character (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s), Quackity & BadBoyHalo (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 14
Kudos: 57





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eatenpickelsticks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatenpickelsticks/gifts), [saccharinefien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saccharinefien/gifts).



> i was thinking about how much i love the fic ‘i hate hoping’ and then i was like “fuck it i’ll write my own version of it” since i was inspired so syash if you’re reading this i love you and will eat you if it means i get your writing skills  
> also mae if you're reading this thank you for the fic title!!!! now please let me out of your basement

Philza was the one who suggested the location.

“It’s an area we’re familiar with,” he told Quackity, the two landing on top of a tree in a spacious forest. “The forest is fairly secluded and has a shit ton of trees, so you can build a house out here and I highly doubt anyone would find it.”  
  
Quackity looked out to the lit-up area near the forest. “I can see a village from here,” Quackity said, squinting his eyes. “You sure you would describe this place as secluded?”  
  
“Wilbur and I know the area,” Philza said again, placing a hand on Quackity’s shoulder. “The locals mostly stay in the village. Scared off from wandering too far after a raid from a couple years back.”  
  
Quackity shivered. He was all too familiar with raids. “So I just hide out in the forest?”  
  
“Yes. And if you have to go to the village, don’t speak to anyone. The less people are able to identify us, the easier it is to keep our cover.”  
  
“Should I hide my wings, then?”

Philza hissed through his teeth. “Yes, you should. _Fuck,_ how did I not think of that?” Slipping out of his cloak, he handed it to Quackity. “Here, take my cloak.”

“But I have my own jacket,” Quackity said, trying to push the cloak back into Philza’s hands.

Philza still didn’t relent. “Your jacket has holes in the back for your wings. Plus, it doesn’t have a hood, but my cloak does. You’ll need to cover your face if you ever go to the village.”

Quackity pulled his hands away, but he still didn’t put on the cloak. “So, what do I do now?”

“Set up a base in the forest, and get supplies. Here, I’ll help you build until the sun rises.” Philza jumped down from the tree, and Quackity followed. The rest of the night was spent getting wood, fighting off lone mobs, and building a small house. Dawn broke through the air as Quackity finished the roof. Jumping off, he hugged Philza goodbye. “Promise you’ll visit?”  
  
Philza smiled. “I’ll try to get someone to check up on you every week. I’ll write to you if anything important happens and get someone to give it to you.”  
  
“If you’ll only write when something important happens, when will you visit?”  
  
Philza’s smile faded. “When something bad happens.”

Philza flew off, leaving Quackity with his cloak and job.

Sighing, Quackity turned back to the base, eyeing the small build he had been left with.

He had a lot of work to do.

•••

That first week was spent with Quackity expanding the base, managing to make it look less like a big block of wood and more like a cottage. He was working on his garden when he heard the sound of hooves quickly approaching.

“Woah, Carl.”

Quackity shot up. _Technoblade._

Briskly walking around his house, Quackity was surprised with the sight of both Technoblade and BadBoyHalo on their horses with a small carriage of furniture kits. “The kits were stolen, I presume?” Quackity said, smiling up at Technoblade as he got off of his horse.

Technoblade didn’t smile back, but Quackity noticed the glint in his eyes. “Always.”

Leading Technoblade and Bad inside, the three caught each other up as they (struggled to) put together the couch. “Did you go to the village?” Bad asked, eyes narrowing as he reread the directions.

“No, not yet. Trying to see how much I can manage on my own,” Quackity answered.

Technoblade huffed. “I’m going to go work on your garden,” he said, standing up and going outside. “Trying to build this thing has proved to me that breaking things is much easier than making them.”

“If that isn’t the truth,” Quackity muttered to himself, turning to face Bad again. “How’s Floppy Hat doing?”

“Philza’s going to kill you once he finds out you’re the one who made that his code name.”

“Come on, you know he secretly likes it.”  
  
Bad looked up at Quackity with a deadpan expression in his eyes. “Who would you be without your lovely gift of humor, Quackity.”

“So, how is Philza?” Quackity asked again, taking the directions from Bad to try and discern them himself.

“Looking for more hybrid recruits. He said it’d be more trustworthy than having to depend on humans. A lot of them are already getting cold feet,” Bad admitted.

“You think it’s a good idea that Philza’s trying to expand the operation?”  
  
“I think it’s a good idea that Philza’s trying to expand the operation _silently,"_ Bad responded. “If the government finds out another revolution’s building, we’re screwed. We just need to reach out to as many hybrids as possible, and hope the humans we do entrust are on our side.”

Quackity huffed. “The whole reason we’re doing this is because humans _aren’t_ on our side.”

“True, but some of them are. Let’s hope that there’s enough.”

Quackity sighed. “I hate hoping.”

•••

Technoblade and Bad left that night, and Quackity laid awake on his new bed, realizing too late he forgot to ask them for iron. He hadn’t been able to find anything else besides stone and coal in the caves, and had planned to ask the two for any metals they had. Sighing, Quackity closed his eyes, resolving that he would visit the village tomorrow in hopes they had a blacksmith.

•••

Quackity felt awkward wearing the cloak.

The sun liked to beat down on the Savanna biome, making it taking his hood off more attractive than ever. On top of that, his wings were pushed up against the cloak, giving him the appearance of a hunchback if he knelt down. Even now, as he approached the nearby village, he could feel his wings pushing against the fabric.

Still, he kept it on. It might not have been easier to hide his wings, but it was safer.

He neared the village, sighing with relief when he found a blacksmith. Gesturing to the iron they had available, Quackity bought a whole stack and quickly headed back home, thankful that Philza had the premonition to leave him with money. Quackity was snapped out of his daydream when he heard a yell. “Tubbo! Look at the man in the cloak!”

Quackity lifted up his head and located the caller, identifying him to be a blonde-haired boy tugging on his friend’s arm, noting the brown-haired boy was called ‘Tubbo’. The two looked star-struck as they gazed at Quackity. “He looks so cool,” Tubbo whispered loudly.

“Tubbo, Tommy, get back here!” A voice called out. “You said you wanted to help me in the bakery!”

“Sorry Niki!” Tubbo called out, Tommy and Tubbo running back inside. Tommy turned back to Quackity to yell “See you around, Big Man!”

Quackity silently groaned. He had already turned heads and acquired a nickname in his first outing alone.

•••

Technoblade came alone next week, explaining that “Bad went to meet up with a human recruit, an old friend of his. The two must be best friends, because he’s been begging Philza to let him work with us.”  
  
“What’s his name?”  
  
“Skeppy,” Technoblade said, flopping onto Quackity’s couch. “ So, any updates?”  
  
“Went to the village to get iron since I couldn’t find any in the caves,” Quackity responded. 

“Yeah, because you only go two feet deep into them.”  
  
“You know I’m scared of running into Creepers, man!” Quackity said, throwing his jacket over Technoblade’s face.

“You don’t even have a reason to be scared of them,” Technoblade replied, throwing the jacket onto the floor. “It’s not like you have a traumatizing childhood memory about being attacked by one.”

“Maybe I do, but my mind made me forget it because of the trauma,” Quackity jokingly exclaimed, picking up his jacket. “Kind of wishing I just sucked it up and went deeper, though. These two kids saw me and went buckwild.”  
  
Technoblade sat up at the mention of the strangers. “Did you say anything to them?”  
  
“No, I just ignored them,” Quackity said, sitting next to Technoblade. “They must’ve thought I was the Grim Reaper or something with the cloak on.”  
  
Technoblade snorted. “Better being the mysterious man in the cloak than the mysterious man with the wings.”

“If that isn’t the truth. Hey, I thought Philza was trying to get more hybrid recruits,” Quackity said, circling back to Bad’s absence. “You think Philza will let Skeppy work with us?”

“I have no idea. Originally, I thought he would, but one of our human recruits is acting more scared than the rest, so Philza might be wary about letting more humans join,” Technoblade revealed. “They said they don’t believe Philza is keeping their information confidential. Which is obviously bullshit, since I have to refer to them by ‘they’ and not with an actual name.”

Quackity frowned. “What’s Philza going to do about it?”

“He wants them to go on more low-grade stuff so they can calm down, do more assignments in a group rather than solo,” Technoblade said. “Bad and I are going to take them with us in two weeks to meet up with some other recruits we found.”

“Human or hybrid?”  
  
“Hybrid. Sheep hybrids, I think.”

“Do you think it’s safe to go looking for more recruits when one of them is acting up like this?”  
  
“The gears of the revolution are still turning,” Technoblade pointed out. “The only time this thing is going to stop is if one of the parts becomes faulty. And even then, it shouldn’t take long to repair.”

•••

A cold wind blew through the house that night, and Quackity was kept up by the dropping temperatures. “How on Earth does it get cold in a Savanna biome?” he grumbled, grabbing his jacket and slipping it on. However, he took it off quickly when he heard a rip. Turning it around, Quackity’s heart dropped at the sight.

One of the holes on the back of the jacket for his wings had ripped, the aberration nearly ripping the jacket in half.

_Quackity was native to the snowy Taiga Mountains, but his years spent with Philza in more temperate biomes meant his body was no longer accustomed to the biome’s low temperatures, an adjustment Quackity should’ve realized before he came back._

_Shivering, Quackity rubbed at his arms as he walked through his old village, the place long empty since the raid years ago. Philza had brought him there when he turned eighteen, knowing the greatest gift he could give Quackity was closure. Dully remembered Philza’s warning to “Not go too far on your own,” Quackity walked to the edge of the village, intuition overtaking his senses as his mind subconsciously remembered the path to his old house._

_He froze at the entrance, his hand stilling as he grabbed the doorknob. He pushed away the memories that tried to come up, bottling them for him to uncork at a later time._

_He pushed open the door, and was met with his old house, but no life. He couldn’t bring himself to move forward. He wasn’t sure what would scare him more- if there were any bodies inside, or if there weren’t any._

_“No one should be inside.”_ _  
__  
__Quackity jumped, turning to see Philza had appeared. “What are you doing here?”_ _  
__  
__“I saw you walking off and got worried. I told you to not go far on your own.”_ _  
__  
__“Sorry, it’s just...” Quackity trailed off._

_Philza’s eyes held a sad note. “You don’t have to explain.”_ _  
__  
__Turning back, Quackity stared into the house. He felt his body shaking, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or the fear._

_“Do you- do you know what happened to my village? To my dad?”_ _  
_

_“You don’t remember?” Philza asked, his voice incredulous._ _  
_

_Quackity whipped his head back around. “Don’t remember what?”_

_"I did find you with a head injury,” Philza muttered to himself. “Maybe you forgot about it because of that, combined with the trauma.”_ _  
__  
__“Don’t remember what, Philza?” Quackity sternly asked again, his hand leaving the doorknob and his arms coming up to cross each other._

_"Your village-” Philza’s voice broke, and he looked down to the ground, attempting to regain his composure. Clearing his throat, he looked back up. “All I’m going to say is that they died.”_

_Quackity flinched from the certainty in Philza’s voice, grabbing the doorknob again as he stumbled back. “Everyone?”_

_Philza’s eyes were grave. “Everyone.”_

_Quackity felt his eyes sting from his tears. “Quackity, are you-”_

_Quackity closed the door before Philza could finish his question._

_Breathing heavily, he lit up a torch, gaping at the sight that beheld him._

_All the furniture was turned over, and the kitchen was empty, implying that the house had been raided, presumably by the patrollers. Carefully walking upstairs, Quackity approached his dad's bedroom, and was instantly overwhelmed. It smelt like the sawdust that coated Quackity whenever his father renovated the house, and the cologne his father would jokingly spray on him to cover up the smell._

_Openly sobbing, he collapsed right outside the room, the torch snuffing out as he lost all composure._

_He wasn’t sure how long he was alone, but it wasn’t very long, a pair of arms wrapping around him shortly after. “I can’t go in,” he said. “I can’t go in.”_ _  
__  
__Philza lifted him up, walking Quackity down the stairs. “I know, Quackity, I know.”_

_Philza led him out to the porch, wrapping an arm around Quackity as the two sat down on the front steps. “All I wanted for years was to find out what happened,” he pushed out in between his cries. “And now I can’t even fucking enter a room.”_

_“It’s more than a room, Quackity, it’s your dad's’ room,” Philza said, placing his arms on Quackity’s shoulders when he looked up. “You just found out they died. You’re allowed to be overwhelmed.”_ _  
__  
__Quackity shook his head, looking back down. “I should’ve just assumed it. I remember parts of the raid.”_

_“Quackity, if you didn’t remember seeing anyone die, what would there be for you to operate your assumptions on?” Philza ran his hands up and down Quackity’s arms, then frowned. “You’re freezing,” he said, pulling off his jacket._

_“You don’t have to give it to me,” Quackity responded, although Philza still did, pulling Quackity’s arms through the sleeves._ _  
__  
__“It’s just a jacket.”_

It wasn’t ‘just a jacket’.

Quackity couldn’t explain it, but it wasn’t just a jacket.

Quackity’s eyes caught on the cloak, discarded on a shelf, and he sighed.

He’d visit the village tomorrow to see if there was a seamstress.

•••

“Big Man!”  
  
The two children had been a bother his first visit, but maybe they could be a help in the second.

Running up to Quackity, Tommy and Tubbo’s imminent rambles were silenced by Quackity lifting up his jacket, gesturing to the holes. “Oh! Do you need a seamstress, Big Man?” Tubbo asked.  
  
( Quackity marveled at how the two unironically called him Big Man. At least he was being sarcastic when he called Philza Floppy Hat, and even then, he would argue that nickname made much more sense than his. )

The mention of a seamstress caused Tommy to flinch. “Sorry, Big Man,” he muttered, “No seamstresses left.”  
  
Quackity noticed Tommy’s shaking hands, but found his attention being grabbed by a sudden caller. “Tommy, Tubbo!” they yelled out. “You think you can help Niki in the kitchen?”

Tommy and Tubbo’s eyes lit up. Tubbo responded with, “Of course we can!” while Tommy yelled out, “Sunglasses! Big Man’s back!”  
  
The stranger, presumably ‘Sunglasses’ due to their sunglasses, approached the three. “So he is,” they said. “Forgive Tommy for his nicknames, he finds them more appealing than proper names.”

“I really hope you didn’t assume my real name was Tubbo,” Tubbo added in.

“Hey!” Tommy exclaimed, punching Tubbo in the shoulder. “Tubbo would be a great name!”  
  
“Its potential is greatest as a nickname,” Tubbo responded, punching Tommy back before running to the bakery. “Last one there has to clean the other’s room!”

Tommy ran after Tubbo, his call of “We literally share a room, Tubbo!” carrying into the wind. Quackity turned to the stranger. “I’m the co-owner of the bakery with Niki,” they said. “So, what brings you here?”  
  
Quackity held up his jacket again, and they drew in a sharp yet quiet inhale. “Bad rip, I see,” they muttered, hands reaching up to take the jacket. “Well, we don’t have an official seamstress around here, but I know a little bit about sewing, so I could fix your jacket, if you’re fine with that.”  
  
Quackity nodded, and the co-owner smiled. “Come on, then,” they said, leading Quackity to the bakery. “We’ll go through the back so Tommy and Tubbo don’t bother us.”

The co-owner opened the backdoor and gestured Quackity inside to what looked like a breakroom, small yet homely. Sitting across from Quackity, the co-owner grabbed a sewing kit and set on patching up the jacket. Quackity nearly stopped them from completely patching up the holes, but stopped himself, remembering that no one was supposed to know he had wings. “You were the only thing Tubbo and Tommy talked about the day they first saw you,” the co-owner shared, smiling from the memory. “They think the village doesn’t ‘have enough adventure’, so the mysterious figure in the hood really appealed to their boredom.”

Quackity cursed himself when he let out a small laugh, but was less mad when the co-owner’s smile grew from the sound. “They’re trying to figure out a plan to make you talk, so make sure you get your defenses up.”

They quickly finished fixing the jacket, and handed it back to Quackity. He inspected it, marveling at how the repair was virtually invisible, as if the jacket had never been ripped. The thanks escaped him before Quackity could stop it.

“Thank you.”

The co-owner subtly hid their shock by grabbing onto the side of the table, although Quackity still noticed it. “It’s... it’s no problem.”

Quackity nodded, and pulled out his pouch of coins, although the co-owner waved it away. “Oh, you don’t have to pay me for that,” they said. Still, Quackity put down ten coins on the table. He wasn’t sure how to equate sentimentality to a monetary value, but he would’ve given all the money in the world for the jacket. 

“Well, thank you,” the co-owner conceded. Nodding again, Quackity pushed out the back door, hands full with the jacket and gratefulness.

•••

Bad and Technoblade visited him together that week. “Philza’s going to let Skeppy work with us!” Bad exclaimed, Technoblade still outside as he settled down the horses. “He said after our recruitment next week, he’ll switch out the jumpy human with him.”  
  
Quackity smiled. “That’s great, Bad. Any other news from Philza?”  
  
“No, everything’s been going alright so far. The gears of the revolution are well-oiled, as Techno might say.”

Quackity laughed at that. “God, he would say that, wouldn’t he?”

“Maybe I would,” Technoblade said with a deadpan tone, Quackity and Bad only laughing together as he entered. “Also, Wilbur wanted us to let you know he’s coming to visit next week while we’re getting the new recruits.”  
  
“Is he coming alone?”

“No, I’ll be coming with him to show the way,” Bad answered. “We should arrive on Sunday.”

“So, anything going on with you, Quackity?” Technoblade asked.

“Expanded the base a little more, keeping the crops safe,” Quackity said, preparing for the inevitable question of _Did you go to the village?_

“Did you go to the village?”

“Yeah, I did,” he shared. “My jacket ripped, and I didn’t have any sewing supplies.”

“Do they have a seamstress?” Technoblade asked, grabbing Quackity’s jacket off of a chair and inspecting it. “It looks like it’s brand-new.”  
  
“That’s what I thought too!” Quackity exclaimed. “But no, they don’t have a seamstress. One of the owners of the bakery fixed it for me, if you would believe that.”  
  
Bad’s eyes lit up. “A _bakery?”_

“Don’t ask if-” Technoblade started.

“Do they have muffins?” Bad asked.

Quackity laughed. “I assume they do.”  
  
“Don’t ask if he can get you any.”

Bad frowned at Technoblade. “Alright, I won’t.”  
  
Huffing, Technoblade went to inspect Quackity’s expansion of the house, and Bad leaned in to whisper, “Can you get me some muffins from the bakery?”

•••

Quackity left for the bakery later that next week, deciding he’d surprise Bad with the muffins. But when he heard a shrill voice call out, “Big Man!” Quackity wanted to do nothing more than rip off his cloak and fly back home.

“Big Man, what are you doing here?” Quackity recognized the caller to be Tommy, and readied himself for a barrage of nonsense. When he noticed Tubbo run up with him, he fought the urge to groan.

“You usually come to the village on the weekend!”

“Yeah, why the sudden change in schedule?” Tubbo asked, frowning as if Quackity’s sudden arrival deeply affected him.

“Tommy, Tubbo, you were supposed to collect eggs from the coop,” A soft voice called out from the entrance of the bakery. “Leave the poor man alone and get to work.”

“Oh right, Big Man, we didn’t tell you about our new jobs!” Tubbo said, his and Tommy’s attention once again diverted to the mysterious man in the cloak. 

“We’re officially working in the bakery now! Niki’s going to pay us by letting us taste-test her food!”

“She wanted to pay us with _money_ instead! Honestly, what a ridiculous deal.”

Quackity watched Niki walk up behind the two kids while they rambled about their alternative form of pay, the woman placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “I’ll get them out of your hair now. Thank you for not losing your mind with them,” she said to Quackity, forcefully turning the two around and leading them to the back of the bakery. Quackity heard faint complaints of “But he looked interested!” and “You can’t even see his face, Tommy, he wears a hood” before the three rounded the bakery’s corner. Taking in a deep breath, Quackity geared himself up to enter the building in question.

He pushed open the door, and was greeted with the sight of the bakery’s co-owner. They shot their head up, and the sight of them wearing their sunglasses, even inside, confused Quackity.

( Although, perhaps he wasn’t in a position to judge. He still had his hood up inside, after all. )

“Oh, hello again,” they greeted, a small smile gracing their face as they closed the book and hopped off from their stool. “What brings you to the bakery?”

Quackity pointed to the bakery’s sign that said _We Take Orders!_ in lieu of a verbal answer. Nodding, the co-owner grabbed a pen and paper for Quackity as they told him, “Just fill out what you want and when you want it ready.” If they were offset by Quackity’s silence, they didn’t show it.

The two looked outside through the window when they heard something break, the storm of chickens leaving their coop implying they broken object in question was a piece of the fence. Judging by Niki’s ire expression and the blonde’s scared one, the only worker who found the situation funny was the co-owner.

“Tommy sure knows how to bring new life into our days, although you could argue what he did right now only caused us to lose it,” they said with a small giggle. Sliding the paper and pen over the counter, the co-owner sat back down on their stool. Quackity bent down his head as he wrote down his order. _Two chocolate muffins. Ready by Saturday._

“Your handwriting’s nice,” the co-owner complimented.

( Quackity knew they couldn’t see him smile, so he drew a smiley face on the bottom corner of the page. )

Sliding the paper and pen back over, Quackity watched as the co-owner read his order and quickly figured out the price. “That’ll be twelve coins.”

Nodding, Quackity handed over the money before turning back to the exit. However, he stopped when he heard the co-owner let out a small “Oh, right.”

Turning his head back around, Quackity noticed the slight embarrassment in the co-owner’s demeanor as they stumbled out an apology. “Sorry, it’s just... we usually get people to sign off the order with their names so we don’t mix up any orders. It’s- it’s fine if you don’t, though, I get if you... if you don’t want to.”

Quackity turned back around, his hand on the doorknob as he mulled over his decision. Pushing the door outside open, he turned his head back once more to say,

“Quackity.”

He closed the door behind him and quickly strode away, not wanting to hear the co-owner’s response.

Walking back home, he could hear Niki yelling at Tommy that “You’re going to have to get me new chickens, you know!”

“Can I still taste-test?”

"The taste-testing has been taken out of your paycheck until you get us enough chickens.”

“But that’s not fair!”

•••

Quackity was woken up that night by a scream.

Waking up with a sharp gasp, he slipped out of bed and outside, trying to locate the noise. Hearing another scream, he approximated it to be by the lake deeper in the forest, and felt his stomach drop when he reached it.

It was Tommy, curling up into himself as a Drowned stood over him, bloodied trident in hand.

Quackity impulsively hit at the Drowned with his bare hands, thankful when it was knocked back into the water. Quackity picked Tommy up and ran back to his house. Nudging his door open with his shoulder, Quackity placed Tommy on his couch, managing to get him into a lying position before checking him for injuries.

Quackity deeply fought the urge to gag. All he could think when he saw the cut on Tommy’s abdomen was that it was _deep,_ too deep for him to treat alone. Grabbing a Slowness Potion, he decided the best course of action was to take Tommy back to the village in the hopes Niki and the co-owner would know how to treat Tommy, and if not, someone else who did.

As Quackity kneeled back down by the couch, Tommy groaned as another wave of agony washed through him, Quackity recognizing the glaze of pain in his eyes as Tommy blindly reached out for him.

His hand clenched as he readied to throw the splash potion, Quackity asked, “Why?”

“I- Niki- Needed more chickens,” Tommy gasped out. “Felt- felt bad. Went looking for seeds.”

Quackity unclenched his hand and let the potion fall through the air, its effect finally pulling Tommy into the void of unconsciousness. 

Quackity ran a frustrated hand through his hair, his fingers catching on the feathers behind his ears as he agonized over his decision to take Tommy back to the village. He knew it was his only option, but he also knew he’d be failing his orders of staying low-key if he took him back.

Still, he wrapped Tommy in his cloak before picking him up and flying back to the village, tying his jacket around his waist before he left. He knocked on the bakery’s back door, desperately hoping that 1. Niki and the co-owner slept in the building and 2. One of them would wake up and let them in.

Sure enough, Quackity was greeted with the sight of Niki rubbing at her eyes as she opened the door, although any lingering traces of fatigue were shocked away by the sight of Tommy. _“Tommy._ Oh my God, what _happened?”_

Grabbing Tommy from Quackity, Niki ran back inside and upstairs, leaving Quackity standing by the door as he wondered if he should enter or not.

When the co-owner walked downstairs and made eye contact with him, Quackity felt as if he had been trapped in place.

“Where did you find him?” The co-owner looked scared for their life. Or rather, Quackity supposed, Tommy’s.

“By a lake in the forest,” Quackity answered, his voice weak from disuse. “He was looking for seeds to get more chickens, he said. A Drowned attacked him.”

The co-owner slumped against the wall, sliding to the floor as they hid their face in their hands. “Niki’s going to _die_ if she finds out why he was out.”

A cold wind passed through, and Quackity shivered, his wings instinctively flaring up.

The co-owner looked up from their hands, and pushed themselves up and towards Quackity. “Come on, then,” they said, pulling him inside and shutting the door. If they were fazed by Quackity’s wings, they didn’t show it. “I saw Tommy had your cloak. I can wash it out for you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I should, it’s covered in- it’s dirty.”

Quackity shivered at the thought. _It’s covered in blood._

Pulling Quackity upstairs, the co-owner gestured towards a nook by the window. “I’ll get your cloak. You can wait by here.”

Quackity sat, pulling on his jacket as he watched the co-owner enter a room. His curiosity getting the best of him, Quackity pushed himself up and stopped behind the ajar door.

“Do you have any idea why he was out so far? And why was he alone? He goes everywhere with Tubbo.”

“He didn’t even wake me up to say where he was going.”

“I’m sorry guys, I really don’t know.”

_Niki’s going to die if she finds out why he was out._

Quackity leaned forward, silently jumping back when the floor creaked under him. Looking up from Tommy, Niki gestured him inside. Quackity walked in, Niki, Tubbo, and the co-owner all sitting by Tommy’s bed. Closing the door behind him, Quackity looked back at Niki, wanting to crumple from the worry in her eyes. “Do you know why he was out?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

Preferring to bear the guilt of lying so she wouldn’t have to bear the illogical guilt of Tommy’s pain, Quackity shook his head. “I heard him screaming, but he was unconscious when I found him.”

Niki’s grip on Tommy’s hand tightened, the teen’s hand slack in hers. “He should be fine,” she said, although it felt like she was reassuring herself. “The cut was deep, but I gave him a Healing Potion. He’ll feel weak for a couple days, but it’s better than keeling over from the pain.”

Quackity nodded, watching the co-owner grab Quackity’s discarded cloak from the floor. “I’ll go wash this. Want to come...”

The co-owner tensed, not sure if they should reveal they knew Quackity’s name. Jumping in, Quackity saved them. “Yeah, sure.”

Following the co-owner back downstairs, Quackity sat on their stool as they pulled out a basin and filled it with water. “Thank you for not telling Niki why Tommy was out,” they whispered. “She’ll... probably figure it out, but I have no idea how to tell her what he was doing without her blaming herself.” They mixed the water with soap before dunking the cloak in, standing up as it floated around in the water. Noticing Quackity run a hand through his hair, they asked, “Are you cold?”

Quackity shook his head. “Just used to having my face covered.”

The co-owner nodded before suddenly perking up. “I think I can help with that,” they said, rushing upstairs and returning with a bundle in their hands.

“I got this for my friend Wilbur, but he said he grew out of wearing them, so you can have it.”

Quackity ignored the urge to share that _I know someone named Wilbur too_ as he held out his hands, and the co-owner dropped the bundle into them. Lifting it up, he realized it was a beanie. Pulling it onto his head, Quackity said,

“Thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

The co-owner let out a weak smile. “It’s Eret.”

“Hello, Eret.”

“Hello, Quackity.”

The two stayed together in silence for the rest of the night, with Eret routinely going back upstairs to check on Tommy, Tubbo, and Niki. Eventually, Quackity fell asleep slumped against the wall, and when Eret woke him up at dawn, his cloak had been dried and returned to its original green color.

“Thank you,” Quackity said again when Eret handed him his cloak, although he frowned while looking down at it. 

“Is something wrong?” Eret asked.

“Not sure if I want to wear this anymore, I’ll be honest,” Quackity said. “Can’t help but associate bad things with it after tonight.”

Eret nodded. “Can’t blame you for that.”

The sound of the village’s animals waking up began to fill the atmosphere, and Eret gestured to the back door. “You might want to head out now, before people start waking up to tend to their animals.”

Pulling off his jacket and holding it in his hands, Quackity got up and pushed the door open before heading outside, but turned his head back to face Eret as he readied to fly.

However, they jinxed each other by both saying “Thank you.”

“Owe me a pie.”

Eret chuckled. “Too busy with your first order.”

Quackity smiled, although it faded quickly. “Tell Tommy I hope he feels better soon.”

Eret nodded. “I highly doubt he’ll remember you.”

“Let him know Big Man was worried, at any rate.”

Quackity turned and flew off before Eret could respond.


	2. Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eret doesn't like to remember, but sometimes it helps to.
> 
> TW for injury, mention of violence, implied minor character deaths, and painful scientific experiments

_ “Birch, why do we pray?” _

_ Birch chuckled. “Now that is a broad question, Eret. I’m not sure if I can answer.” _

_ Eret huffed, kicking his legs up as he looked up at the man sitting across from him. “There has to be a reason, or you wouldn’t be so strict about it.” _

_ Birch smiled down at Eret. “If I think of a reason, I’ll tell you.” _

_ Eret flinched when they heard a thud, looking out to see a series of rocks hitting the window. Birch scowled at the sight. “These damn rebels think they can break a bulletproof window with rocks?” he asked sarcastically, pulling Eret up and leading them down the hallway by the hand. _

_ “Why are they fighting us?” Eret asked. _

_ Birch sighed, stopping in the middle of the hallway and kneeling down in front of Eret. “You, my dear, are something special,” Birch started, his hands coming up to cup Eret’s face. “Those hybrids outside are angry because they wish they were as special as you.” _

_ A church bell rang, and Birch stood up. “Come along, we need to hurry or we’ll be late.” _

_ The two reached the building’s church with minutes to spare, and Birch helped Eret bless themselves with holy water. “But Birch, I don’t have any reason to pray for me,” Eret whined. _

_ Birch looked down at Eret again. “Maybe you can pray for someone else, then.” _

Eret never wanted to pray again.

Not after Birch used the activity to manipulate Eret into his doing.

Still, they would go to the local church every Sunday and fill up a vial with holy water, tying it around their neck like a necklace.

“Maybe you subconsciously feel guilty about leaving behind your past and keep the holy water to subside that feeling,” Niki once told them.

Eret shrugged. “Maybe,” they conceded. “But you have to admit, you would think I would at least use it.”

Eret never found the capability to pray to a higher being again, the memories of praying too intertwined with the rest of the memories of their past.

No, Eret would never find the strength to pray for themselves.

But now, with dawn breaking through and Tommy still passed out from his injury, Eret found themselves reaching for their vial and uncorking it, blessing themselves with the holy water while they prayed for Tommy.

_ Please. _

•••

Eret was manning the counter at the bakery that Saturday when Quackity came in. The man had decided to forgo wearing his cloak, replacing it with a jacket and the beanie Eret had given him.  Eret disguised their shock when they saw Quackity by jumping off of their stool.

“New outfit,” Eret blurted out.

Quackity lightly smiled. “Thought it was time for a change.”

“Trauma can lead to growth,” Eret offered.

Quackity laughed at that. “God, if that’s not true.”

Eret pulled out Quackity’s order, the man grabbing it as he said, “Thank you. Tell Niki I said thanks to her too.”

“No problem. And I will.”

Quackity nodded at the acknowledgement, then asked Eret a question. “Is Tommy...”

Eret took in a deep breath, their hands unconsciously reaching up to their vial. “He’s fine. The potion healed him up, but he’s still really tired. He got excited when I told him you said you were worried, though. I don’t think he remembers you from that night.”

Quackity nodded again, stepping back to the exit. “I’m glad he’s alright. Thank you two again.”

Eret blurted out more information before Quackity could leave. “Niki and I won’t tell anyone about your wings, by the way.”

Quackity smiled at them. “Thank you for that.”

“Hey, Quackity?”

“Yeah, Eret?”

“I just... it’s nice to know there’s another hybrid nearby.”

Quackity furrowed his brow. “Another?”

Eret reached up and took off his sunglasses, their eyes' white glare beaming as Quackity stared into them.

Quackity gaped at Eret before striding forward again, grabbing Eret’s hand. “There’s something you should know about.”

•••

Quackity pulled Eret back to his house, the two breaking into a quick sprint by the time they reached it. Panting heavily, Eret saw Quackity set down his bakery order before pulling Eret to sit on his couch. “Sorry, it just felt safer to tell you here.”

Eret nodded in understanding, their words lost as they tried to regain their stamina.

“Alright, so,” Quackity started, sitting down next to Eret. “You know how the government raided all the villages about ten years ago to capture hybrids?”

Eret nodded. They knew be cause they had been one of those captured hybrids.

_Eret wasn’t outside the day their village was raided. They sat inside for lunch, serving punishment for spilling the class paints._

_ “You need to be careful when putting the paints away, Eret,” the teacher reprimanded. “Look at your hands! They’re all covered in red!” _

_ Eret’s hands might have been red with paint, but the patrollers would soon find theirs red with blood. _

_ A sound similar to a firecracker broke out, and the playground filled with screams. “Teacher, what’s going on?” _

_ The teacher got up from their desk and walked over to the door that led from the classroom to the playground. “One of the older kids must have brought a firecracker to school. I’ll be back soon, alright? Don’t move.” _

_ Eret huffed when the teacher left, kicking at their desk’s legs while they waited. Eret flinched when the firecrackers returned, and when they didn’t stop, they walked over to the window. Eret looked out at the sight that beheld them, and their eyes widened. _

_ The sounds weren’t firecrackers. They were gunshots. _

_ Eret ran back to their desk, cowering under it while they waited for the noise to subside. It eventually receded, but when Eret heard the backdoor open again, they still didn’t move away from their hiding position. _

_ “Hello there, my dear,” the person said, and Eret bit their tongue to stop themselves from replying. Rounding Eret’s desk and kneeling down to face them, the stranger addressed them again. “What are you doing under there?” _

_ Eret shook their head, refusing to look up. “My teachers say I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” _

_ “Wouldn’t you like to join your teachers?” _

_ Eret finally looked up. “Are you a teacher?” _

_ The stranger looked shocked as they looked into Eret’s eyes. “A Wither hybrid. Now those...” the stranger muttered, looking down at the ground. “Those are rare.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The stranger looked back up, and Eret took note of the steadfast look in his eyes. “I work with the patrollers. Do you know what the patrollers are?” _

_ Eret nodded. Patrollers were people assigned by the government to guard villages and public spaces. _

_ “Well, we came here to collect you.” _

_ "But I thought you were going to take me to my teachers." _

_ "I was, now I see that you're too special to keep here."  
_ _   
_ _ “But I don’t want to leave!” _

_ The man sucked his teeth in frustration. “It’s not safe here, my dear,” he said, holding out his hand to Eret. “I’ll protect you if you come with me.” _

_ “Do you promise?” _

_ “I promise. So,” the man said, pulling Eret up when they finally took his hand. “What’s your name?” _

_ “I’m Eret. What’s yours?” _

_ "I’m Birch.” _

“I heard they did it to discourage the rebel alliance.”

“That’s what I heard too. But now it’s happening in reverse order.”

“Reserve order?”

“Before, rebel alliances formed, so the government decided to raid villages. Now, the government wants to raid villages, and so rebel alliances are forming again.”

“Are you serious?” 

"Yes. We've got someone on the inside, and he said it looks like the government wants to launch another set of raids to cut back the hybrid population again."

"Someone on the inside?"

“Yes. I'm- I'm with a rebel alliance.”

Quackity squeezed Eret’s hands, the Wither hybrid shocked into silence. " We’ve had to rely on human informants for hideouts, but with a hybrid settled into their community... it would definitely help a lot more, be more trustworthy.”

Eret tightened their grip on Quackity’s hands as they attempted to ground themselves. “Are you... are you asking me to join your rebel alliance?”

Quackity nodded. “I know I just sprung up a lot of information on you right now, but will you at least consider it?”

Eret didn’t have to consider it, because they already knew their answer.

But before they could tell Quackity about their decision, a loud knock pounded on the door.

Quackity shot up from the noise. “What was hell?” he said as he walked over to the door. “Bad and Wilbur weren’t supposed to be here until Sunday.”

“Who wasn’t supposed to be here?” Eret asked, standing up from the couch. _Bad and Wilbur?_

Quackity didn’t take notice of their question, opening the door to greet his sudden visitors. Although, when he gasped, Eret had the premonition that the visit wouldn’t be happy.

“Technoblade, what the hell happened?”

“Some patrolling psychos got to Bad and unleashed some  _ thing _ on him.”

Eret stood shellshocked, feeling as if they had walked into the middle of a captivating drama that they didn’t know the plot of.  _ Technoblade? _

But the thing that shocked Eret the most was Quackity’s familiarity with these two, his quietness and calculative personality melting away into loud questions and impulsivity as he rushed to help his friends.

“Lay him down on the couch,” Quackity told Technoblade, pulling the two inside and slamming the door shut. Eret leaned against the wall, Bad’s arm over Technoblade’s shoulders as the piglin hybrid maneuvered him to walk to the couch and lay down. Eret flinched when Bad groaned.

“When did this happen?” Quackity asked, pouring a bucket of water into his cauldron to make a Healing Potion.

“Friday night. And don’t bother with a Healing Potion, I gave him one and it didn’t do anything.”

“What destinations did you cut to get here sooner?” Quackity asked, dropping the empty potion bottles into the cauldron.

“We were supposed to see the recruits today, but we skipped that. I took Bad here since I thought it’d be safer, and Wilbur went to get Philza.”

_ Philza and Wilbur? My Philza and Wilbur? _

“How did this even happen?”

“That goddamned human recruit lost their mind when they saw the patrollers. They weren’t even approaching us, but they still broke down and reported us. We managed to get away, but not before they shot Bad him in the arm. I think they might’ve arrested the recruit, too.”

Eret steadied their view onto Bad’s arms, noticing the blood red veins running up and down it. They gagged at the sight, kneeling over and grabbing onto a nearby shelf to steady themselves.

It was like Eret had drank an invisibility potion, and when the piglin hybrid looked up to them, it had worn off.

“Who the fuck is this?”

“I’ll explain later-“

“No, Quackity, you’ll explain now,” Technoblade snapped. “The one thing you had to do was stay below the radar.”

Eret was frozen by their confusion as Quackity grabbed Technoblade’s hand and pulled him down into his room. When the door slammed shut, Eret looked back to the man they called Bad. They winced at his broken demeanor, his injured expression mirroring Tommy’s. Tentatively, they took a step forward, and then another one, and then another one, until they were in front of Bad.

Kneeling down next to him, Eret looked at Bad’s arm, shivering at the red veins as they slowly grew more prominent. They grabbed at their own hand, the phantom pain of memory sneaking up on them.

Eret jumped back up when he heard Quackity slam the door again, the avian hybrid walking back into the living room with a frustrated look on his face, although it melted away at the sight of Bad. Kneeling down next to him, Quackity looked down at Bad. Eret set a careful hand on his shoulder. "You okay, Quackity?"  


"Just trying to make sense about how this could've happened." Quackity tiredly looked up at Eret. "This wasn't exactly how I pictured introducing you."

Eret nodded. "Do you... want to pray for him?"

"With what?"

Eret removed the vial from his neck and handed it to Quackity. "Here. It has holy water in it, you can... use it."  


Quackity's eyes shone with heartbroken gratitude. "Thank you, Eret."

Eret nodded again, and took a step back when Quackity uncorked the vial, watching him bless himself and then Bad with holy water. 

Eret felt as if they had been hit in the head with a weight, breathing heavily as they remembered something from their past. “Pour the vial over his arm.”

Quackity snapped his head up to Eret. “Why?”

“Just- just do it,” Eret said, the world turning upside down as they hoped their hypothesis wouldn’t come true.

Quackity poured the holy water over Bad’s arm, gaping when he saw the red veins disappearing. “Holy shit,” he said. “Techno! Come look at Bad!” Quackity called out.

Technoblade came down the hallway, freezing at the living room’s entrance when he realized Bad was no longer poisoned. “How?”

“Eret told me to pour the holy water on his arm.”

Technoblade narrowed his eyes at Eret, clearly suspicious of them. “How did you know that holy water would reverse the effects of the Egg?”

“The- the Egg?”

Eret felt like their head was spinning.

“I heard the patrollers call it that.”

“I know- I know what it’s called,” Eret forced out.

_ Eret and Birch always prayed together on Sundays, so when Birch led them to not the church, but his lab, Eret was confused. _

_ “Birch, what are we doing here?” _

_ Birch pulled him into an observation room, and Eret took note of it. There was a control panel by the wall, and above it was a window that gave a view into another room, the door next to the panel presumably leading into the other room. _

_ “I’m here to show you something very special.” _

_ Birch gestured to the object behind the glass, and Eret squinted at it. “What’s that behind it?” _

_ “That, my dear, is my latest project,” Birch said, kneeling down beside Eret as his smile expanded tenfold. _

_ “It looks like an egg.” _

_ Birch laughed, Eret’s lack of care for the project amusing him. “Maybe that’s what I’ll call it,” he said. “The Egg.” _

_ “What’s it for?” _

_ Birch sighed, settling a hand on Eret’s shoulder. “You see, Eret, the hybrid rebels you saw outside last week are growing dissatisfied, and now human supporters are joining them. We needed to make something that hurts hybrids and hurts hybrids alone.” _

_ Eret frowned. “But... I’m a hybrid.” _

_ Birch smiled at Eret, his smile cloying as he ran a hand through their hair. “I know, my dear. And right now, you’re my test subject.” _

_ And then the door opened and Eret found themselves being pushed through it. _

_ Landing on the floor, Eret pushed themselves up and started pounding on the door. “Birch!” they screamed. “Let me out!” _

_ “I’ll let you out when you touch the Egg, alright, Eret? Can you do that for me?” _

_ Eret took a step back from the door, shivering when they realized the window showed not Birch, but their reflection. _

_ “Do you promise you’ll let me out?” _

_ “Yes, don’t worry. I promised I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” _

_ Eret turned to face the Egg, tentatively stepping towards it. Reaching out their hand, they carefully set it on top of the Egg. _

_ And withdrew it when their hand began to burn. _

_ Stumbling back, Eret screamed, holding their hand as they yelled for Birch. “Birch, please! Let me out, I touched it!” _

_ “Does it hurt?” _

_ “Yes! It burns!” Eret sobbed, screaming again when they noticed red veins running up and down their hand. _

_ Birch entered through the door, laying Eret down when they tried to get up. Pulling a vial out of his pocket, Birch poured the holy water on Eret’s hand. Eret’s sobs quieted as the pain quickly receded. Pulling Eret up by their once-burning hand, Birch smiled at them. _

_ “And that, Eret, is why we pray.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i be like hey lol *gives eret trauma*  
> comment and tell me what you think!!! it always makes me happy to see people comment :)  
> also birch is an original character i just needed someone to be a jackass


	3. Unnecessary Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe ambition could now fuel his drive, instead of anger.
> 
> TW: Mention of shooting and injury

Technoblade should’ve killed the human recruit when he had the chance.

Technoblade, Bad, Wilbur, and the recruiter setting off for their journeys- Technoblade and the human going to meet the new hybrid recruits, Bad and Wilbur going to meet with Quackity-and had decided to stop at a local inn, the sun beating down that high noon.

“Calling you ‘human’ or ‘recruit’ feels dehumanizing,” Bad started with a friendly tone, taking Technoblade’s hand as he helped him get down from the horse. “Do you have a nickname we can refer to you by?”

“Nope.”  
  
Bad frowned, the curtness of the human displacing him. “Guess we’ll stick with Recruit, then.”  
  
Bad could’ve sworn at the human and they still wouldn’t have heard it, their attention captured by the patrollers waiting outside the inn.

Technoblade pushed himself forward, laying a hand on the human’s shoulder. “They’re not here for us. They’re guarding the inn.”

“Piglin and I have our hoods up so they can’t see our faces, and Soot’s hiding his wings under his jacket,” Bad reassured.

Still, they should’ve known that the sight of the patrollers would be enough to surpass the recruit's threshold of stress.

“You can go and order some drinks for us while we get the horses settled down,” Wilbur offered. “Maybe that’ll help calm you down?”  
  
The human nodded. “Yeah, maybe it will.”

The human set off for the inn, and Technoblade grumbled. “They didn’t even ask us what drinks we wanted,” he said, petting Carl to calm him. “And why can’t they give us a nickname? We know what their voice sounds like, and we can’t even see their face because of their mask. It’s not like they would be endangering themselves.”  
  
“Be kind, Tech,” Bad said. “We were all nervous when we started out with this.”

“Yeah, but they’re _human,”_ Technoblade emphasized. “And they’re acting more jumpy than we ever did.”

“Uh, guys?”  
  
Technoblade and Bad immediately turned to Wilbur, taking quick notice of the tremor in his voice. “What’s wrong, Wilbur?”  
  
“The recruit’s talking to the patrollers.”

Technoblade looked up to see the human pointing down at them, and knew things had taken a turn for the worse.

“Wilbur, go to Philza _now,_ tell him the human got cold feet,” Technoblade said, pushing him towards the forest. “Run into the forest and fly off from there.” Wilbur nodded and ran into the forest. Jumping back onto his horse, Technoblade told Bad to “Get on, we don’t have much time.”

Technoblade reached out his hand as Bad pulled himself up onto the horse, but when Bad extended his arm to take it, he was met with a shot to the forearm.

Technoblade pulled him up roughly at the detection of the threat, quickly rearing his horse when he noticed one patroller was aiming to shoot again, the other taking the recruit aside. “Don’t make us use the Egg!” one of the patrollers lamely called out, but Technoblade and Bad already gone.

Riding off into the forest, Technoblade maneuvered through the trickiest areas in the forest, hoping he’d be able to throw off the patrollers that way. “Where’s Skeppy?” Bad asked, his voice a groan as his grip began to weaken.  
  
“You’re going to go get him next week, remember?” Technoblade reminded. “Hey, don’t let go yet, alright?”  
  
“It feels like my arm is on fire,” Bad sobbed out. 

Technoblade quickly brought his horse to a stop, pulling himself and Bad to the ground. “Hey, I’ve got some Healing Potions, don’t worry,” Technoblade said, eyes glinting with worry when Bad slumped over. Holding up Bad’s arm, Technoblade poured the Healing Potion over it, but when Bad’s pain didn’t go away, he began to get worried. “How the hell did it not work?” Technoblade said, looking away for one second to rummage for another potion.

“Tech?”

Technoblade shot his head up at the sound of Bad’s hysterical voice, eyes widening when he realized there were red veins running up and down Bad’s arm. “We need to get to Quackity, _now.”_ Pulling Bad back up and getting the two of them back on the horse, Technoblade rode like never before, begging God to help him find a solution to their unsolvable problem.

•••

Quackity pulled Technoblade into his room. “If you’re going to get mad at me, don’t get mad at me in front of the person you just met.” 

Technoblade pushed Quackity roughly after he closed the door, Quackity steadying himself by grabbing onto his drawer. “What the _hell_ made you think it was a good idea to just bring a random stranger to the base, Quackity?”

“I was thinking that it would be helpful to have another hybrid working with us, that’s what I was thinking,” Quackity replied curtly.

“Don’t tell me you fucking told them about the operation.”  
  
“I did.”

“You went off to recruit someone, knowing that the last thing you were supposed to do was talk to _anyone?”_ Technoblade hissed. “This could become a big problem if Philza finds out about this.”

“Why the hell would Philza be mad?”

“What, that a stranger knows about our plans? I think it would be weird if he _wasn’t_ mad.”

“You saw their eyes! It’s not like they’re a human! We can use them as an aid!”

“Quackity, all you had to do was stay quiet!” Technoblade reminded. “You could’ve endangered Eret’s entire village by doing this!”

“Every village in this fucking country was endangered when the government decided to raid them all for hybrids,” Quackity snapped. His eyes softened when he continued. “I know you’re wary because of the recruit who betrayed us,” he conceded. “But I think we can actually trust Eret.”

Walking towards his door, Quackity turned his head back to face Technoblade. “I’m going to go help Bad. Stay in here and be as angry for as long as you want.”

Technoblade huffed, but was met with the sight of a closing door.

Sitting down, Technoblade buried his face in his hands.

_Stay in here and be as angry for as long as you want._

Technoblade couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t been angry.

_There had been whispers that villages were being raided, but leaked government information confirmed it and worse, showed the damage that was being done to the villages._

_The capital had a mostly-human population, but was met with an influx of hybrid protestors when the information leaked. The patrollers cut the protestors back down, but no one was able to stop the flow of information coming from the whistleblower. All that was known about them was that they were an avian hybrid, but no further move was made to identify them for their own safety._

_When Technoblade would risk sneaking away to underground hybrid meetings, the talk was always focused on the government’s cruel actions. “We need to root out the corrupt politicians, and manage to get some hybrids in their spot,” a stranger once angrily ranted._

_Technoblade huffed at that. “Human or hybrid, it doesn’t matter. The government always hands us a hot pile of shit. Honestly, what’s the point of government? Just get rid of it and let everyone be on their own separate ways.” The stranger turned their view onto Technoblade, clearly wanting someone to debate, so he promptly stood up and left. He understood his views were unorthodox, and didn’t need to be debated to prove that._

_Pushing the door open, Technoblade flinched when he nearly ran into a person outside. He carefully clenched a hand as he staked out the new arrival, trying to distinguish them as hostile or peaceful. He unclenched his hand when he noticed their wings._

_“You,” the hybrid said, quickly pulling him into an alleyway, his face impossible to make out in the dim light. “You think you can help me?”_

_Technoblade let out a silent gasp. It was the winged whistleblower._

_“Yes, I can. What do you need?”_

_“There’s been work in governmental labs, focused on creating weaponry that only hurts hybrids. And it’s effective. They’re planning on unleashing it onto villages soon.”_

_“How do they know it’s effective?”_

_“Because they tested it on a hybrid.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Holy shit. Are they okay?”_

 _“They managed to escape, but the government ended up taking more hybrids. I don’t see how I can stop the project, besides destroy it.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _Technoblade felt his head spin. “Destroy it?”_

 _“I’ll get you into the lab and give you what you need to destroy it.” The avian hybrid placed a hand on Technoblade’s shoulder. “I can’t do it because I’ll definitely be recognized. I still understand if you don’t want to-”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“I’ll do it.”_

 _The avian hybrid nodded. “Let’s do this, then.”_ _  
_ _  
_ That was the first of his interactions with Philza, one of many that allowed for Technoblade to use his anger usefully.

But right now, sitting alone, waiting to cool off, Technoblade found the feeling of anger to be tiring.

“Techno! Come look at Bad!”

Technoblade begrudgingly left the room, freezing in shock when he realized the veins on Bad’s arm were gone.

“How?”

“Eret told me to pour the holy water on his arm.”

Technoblade scrutinized Eret. “How did you know that holy water would reverse the effects of the Egg?”

“The- the Egg?”

“I overheard the patrollers call it that.”

“I know- I know what it’s called,” Eret said, their tone strained as their hands began to shake.

“Eret?” Quackity said, getting up to take Eret’s hands in his own. “You good?”

“Take Eret back home, Quackity.”

Eret shook his head. “I’m fine, Quackity, I’m just… remembering something. I’ll go home now.”

“Eret, come on-”

But Eret was already pulling their hands away and leaving.

Quackity took a step towards the door, but was stopped from moving further when Technoblade strode forward and grabbed his arm. “How the hell did they know about the Egg?”

Quackity sighed. “I admit, it’s weird that Eret knew what it was called _and_ had a remedy. But, they still chose to share it with us, didn’t they?”

“Oh my _God,_ Quackity,” Technoblade exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “What if Eret was planted here to get to know you and bring us down?”

Quackity rolled his eyes. “Now you’re just grasping at straws. Do you not realize how many factors played into us meeting? What if those two kids I told you about never approached me? What if Eret never fixed my jacket? What if Bad never got shot?” Quackity poked at Technoblade’s shoulder. “Yes, this situation was insanely fortuitous, but Eret isn’t dangerous. And if they know about the Egg, there might be more stuff that they know.”

Technoblade huffed, turning away from Quackity. “Whatever. I still think you trusted them too quickly.”

“Maybe you’re too slow to trust,” Quackity shot back. “You’re just freaked out from the human recruit. Don’t tell me that you wouldn’t have been happy to find a hybrid who knew this much if this hadn't happened.”

Technoblade didn’t respond, choosing to exit through the back door and distract himself by tending to Quackity’s crops. Pulling out the potatoes, Technoblade tried his best to ignore his shaking hands, hating that Quackity was right. Any other time, he would’ve taken the news that there was a hybrid willing to work with them with apprehensive joy. The mess with the recruit and Bad being hurt had just heightened his nerves.

He wished he could’ve gotten to kill the human recruit before he and Bad escaped. _What was the fucking point of that?_ he wondered, nails digging into his skin as he clenched his hands in frustration. If that _damn human recruit_ had just trusted them, they all could’ve gone on their way, and they could’ve ended the weekend with two new recruits and brighter hopes for the future. But no, because one gear popped out, the machine was left in disarray.

And Bad...

_God, Bad._

Technoblade tightly squeezed his eyes, trying to keep out the memories of the ride to the base. But nothing could erase having to watch Bad suffer through pure agony. He thought back to Philza, still in the city for the operation.

The pieces of the puzzle finally came together in Technoblade’s head, and his eyes snapped open.

_“You fine with committing a minor act of terrorism?”_

_Technoblade huffed. “I’d hardly call breaking a window terrorism.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“What would you call breaking into a top governmental lab to destroy secret research, then?”_

_“A good time.”_

_The avian hybrid smiled at that. “If we do this right, the results will definitely be good.”_

_Grabbing Technoblade, the avian hybrid flew them up to the perch right below the window he had pointed out earlier. “Go through the first door on the right and grab all the papers on the desk. Then, go into the observation room and burn the papers, along with the project. You’ve got the flint and steel I gave you, right?”_

_“I’ve got it.”_ _  
_

_“Good. And remember- Don’t. Touch. The. Project. It will burn like crazy.”_ __  
_  
_ _Technoblade nodded. “What’s the escape plan?”_

_“We fly off before we get caught. Make sure to be careful, alright?"_

_Technoblade acknowledged this need for stealth by breaking the window._

_Sliding through the open pane, Technoblade ran into the lab as alarms blared, hurriedly grabbing the papers on the desk and running into the observation room, the building blaring with an alarm. Throwing the papers onto the project, Technoblade started the fire, although he paused at the entrance as the mount burned, trying to make out what the project exactly was._

_A pair of hands suddenly grabbed his arm, and Technoblade flinched harshly, instinctively pushing away. Turning his head back, Technoblade realized that it was the avian hybrid. “No time to look, we have to go now,” he emphasized, pulling Technoblade out of the room before he could figure out what the project was._

The project had been the Egg.

And now it was back.

It wasn’t just back- it was finally out of the lab, ready for use.

If Philza was willing to destroy it before, he would be willing to destroy it again. Which meant he didn’t know the Egg was back.

 _What if the Egg is used on him?_ Technoblade thought, the question sickening him.

Technoblade highly doubted there would be another Eret, another person willing to share the remedy.

_If they know about the Egg, there might be more stuff that they know._

Grumbling, Technoblade stood up, rounding the house to grab his horse for one last ride.

Maybe ambition could now fuel his drive, instead of anger.

•••

Technoblade pushed through the bakery door, the sight of him clearly confusing Eret. “Oh, hey,” they said, walking to the counter from the kitchen. “Is there, uh, anything you need?”

“You’re in.”

Eret froze in place, Technoblade’s statement shocking them. “I’m in?”

“With the operation. You’re our latest recruit.” Technoblade reached out his hand. “So, are you in?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> philza's a whistleblower pog  
> also first person to correctly guess who the recruit is gets a kiss (just kidding that's gross)

**Author's Note:**

> i made quackity say “owe me a pie” instead of “buy me a coke” when he and eret jinxed each other because i’m not sure if i want to imply that the coca cola company exists in this  
> thank you for reading all the way until the end!!! comments are appreciated, and i'd love to see what you guys think is going to happen :)


End file.
